by Lyz Kelley
She hadn’t had time for cramps or weakness.
Suddenly Lucky leapt from the seat in front of her and disappeared into the trees. The fear of losing him as well had been what led her to Chase.
Now Chase had been found, she felt lost. A shadow fell across her path.
Harold held out his hand to help her up. “It will be dark soon, and a second storm front is moving in. We need to get off this hill. A few of us will come back for your dad’s machine tomorrow.”
She opened her arms and hugged the man. “Thank you for your help.” She tilted her head back. “And for calling in a few big favors on my behalf.”
She’d lived up on the ridge long enough to know how things worked. Chase hadn’t been gone long enough for a search. The emergency volunteers were there because she’d asked. She’d helped and held enough hands through the night when called upon to know how much effort it took to be always on call.
Jack joined the group. “Chase’s been taken to St. Anthony’s Hospital.”
Ashley searched the man’s grave face. “Will he make it?”
Jack turned to look east. “I don’t know what internal injuries he has.”
Part of her wanted to strangle Jack. The only thing she wanted to hear was that Chase would be fine, that everything would right itself, but Jack never minced words. He saw the world in black and white—no color, no gray.
Chase’s injuries, like her grandmother’s china, could never be glued back together to make a perfect piece. Life had changed for him, and for her.
She nodded and tightened the straps on her gloves. “We’d better get going.”
Harold squeezed her shoulders. “Life has a way of working itself out. Have a little faith.”
“I hope you’re right because from where I’m standing, it looks to me like life has just crapped on my front porch. Again.”
Harold’s bushy brows raised and he chuckled. “Stay strong.”
She lifted up on her toes and kissed the old man’s cheek, and then called for Lucky.
In those frantic moments searching for Chase, Ashley had realized she didn’t want to be without him. He simply had to survive. He belonged to the Marines, but he’d captured her heart and held it hostage. She could do nothing but go to him. Care for him. Racing down the ridge to her home, she finally understood her parents’ love.
Wherever Chase went in the world, he would have her love.
And she would support him, help him, love him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ashley gripped the door handle of her dad’s truck, concentrating on keeping the drive-thru meal in her stomach. Jenna drove in silence. The city’s congested traffic pounded on her nerves.
Get out of the way, people. We have an emergency here.
Her left foot tapped nervously on the floorboard. Not knowing Chase’s status was like a nurse aiming a needle at her arm. The anticipation shortened her breath.
When she finally spotted the hospital sign, some of the crushing anxiety dissipated. Jenna dropped her at the hospital entryway and left to park. The front doors swished open into an airy atrium. Any other time, the greenery might have been calming, but not today. She scanned the reception area. Spotting the information desk, she moved swiftly to the counter.
“May I help you?” The elderly woman peered over the purple-rimmed glasses balancing on the tip of her long, straight nose.
“I’m looking for Chase Daniels. He arrived by helicopter,” she said, a bit out of breath.
Ashley bit her lip and tapped the counter in time with the receptionist’s methodical keystrokes on the computer. Finally, the woman stopped typing and peered through the bottom of her bifocals at the screen. “And your name?”
“Ashley, Ashley Bryant.”
“Are you related to the patient?”
Gentle eyes studied her while her mind whirled. Oh, man, please tell me you’ll release his status. I have to know he’s all right. She let out a gradual breath and pushed her shoulders back while her hands, out of sight below the counter, folded into fists.
“Yes, I’m his fiancée,” she replied, forcing her mouth into a half-smile, hoping the bullshit sign didn’t flash neon red. She’d been in and out of emergency rooms and hospitals enough to know if you weren’t related, you didn’t get patient information.
A little white lie wouldn’t hurt, would it? She’d been fully prepared to barter away half her life to locate and rescue Chase, so she might as well keep trying to bargain with the powers of fate.
“He’s not in emergency.”
Panic sliced into her heart. Did he die on the way to the hospital? Why hadn’t she stayed with him?
The receptionist continued to study her monitor. “Found him. He’s in surgery.”
A whoosh of air inflated her lungs.
“If you go to the elevators and head toward the trauma area, the nurses should be able to direct you from there.”
Ashley lifted the book she’d laid on the counter and headed for the elevators. She’d spent enough hours watching her mom sleep and knew enough to bring something to read, but she wouldn’t be able to concentrate. At least the weight of something in her hand, an object to hold onto, helped.
Entering the elevator, she pushed the trauma floor button and then heard the patter of rapid steps approaching. She extended her arms to hold open the doors and Jenna slipped through.
“What’d they say?” Jenna’s halting breath meant she’d run all the way from the parking structure.
“He’s in trauma surgery.” Heat burned her cheeks. “I told them I’m his fiancée.”
Jenna must have noticed the grimace because she gave her a friendly nudge. “Don’t worry about it. The shoe fits. It’s only a matter of time, so you might as well use it to help now.”
Ashley’s chest tightened. “Here we go again.”
“Yep. And I’ll keep at it until you listen. I figure you’re destined to be together eventually.” Jenna wrapped an arm around her shoulder, a surprisingly intimate touch for her friend. “I think Cupid might have just bonked you on the head.”
Ashley glared. “Never knew you for such a romantic. But you might be right.”
The elevator doors opened, and Ashley approached the trauma nurse’s station. “I’m here to check on a patient.”
“Name?” the harried nurse asked politely, although Ashley suspected the woman wanted people to disappear so she could do her job.
“Chase Daniels. I’m his fiancée.”
Beside her, Jenna picked up an insurance brochure and flipped through the pages.
“He’s still in surgery. I don’t have an update. If you’d like to go to the waiting room, I’ll have the doctor visit with you as soon as he can.”
“Thank you.” With the lurch of apprehension limiting her breath, the appreciation wasn’t delivered with as much sincerity as she would have liked.
Ashley pulled Chase’s cell out of the pocket of her jeans. She’d brought the phone along, thinking she might need to call somebody…the base, a friend, but she realized she didn’t really know Chase that well. She didn’t know his friends’ names. Their phone numbers. His commanding officer’s name. Nothing. Nothing a fiancée should know. She didn’t even know his password. But she loved him. That was all that mattered.
She and Jenna settled in the far corner of the waiting room, away from the blaring TV. Ashley curled into a chair, waiting and hoping. Feeling small and helpless, she began haggling again with fate for Chase to survive his surgery. And if he did survive, she’d barter again that he wouldn’t be as broken as her grandmother’s china.
Maggie appeared in the doorway of the waiting room, followed by Harold and Claudia. Claudia shoved an egg salad sandwich, an apple, and a bottle of water into Ashley’s lap, and did the same for Jenna. Jack checked in next, and stood off to the side chatting with Maggie.
The last three years, she’d felt completely alone. No one in her life but her and her mom. Day in and day out. Looking around the
waiting room, basking in supportive smiles from those she’d come to love and depend on, she realized again how far apart perceptions and reality could be. Whether or not she liked it, she would never be alone again.
When her tension ratcheted so tight she could barely breathe, she stood and paced back and forth while the clock arms swung in circles.
When the door opened, an anticipatory hush came over the room. Ashley immediately hurried toward the blue scrubs-clad doctor. She wiped sweaty palms across the pockets of her jeans before pulling her shirt down and taking a deep breath. Her body had gone numb anticipating the worst outcome.
“Are you Ashley Bryant?”
Even though she’d had a bottle of water shoved in her direction repeatedly over the past two hours, her mouth had gone dry. She couldn’t even squeak out her name, so she just nodded.
“Chase’s surgery went well. I inserted a titanium rod and a few pins in his right leg. He’s in recovery now.”
“What about internal bleeding?”
The forty-something doctor’s eyes crinkled a bit at the corners. “Other than a broken nose, a cracked rib, and a shattered femur, he’s a lucky guy. He might need some cosmetic surgery, but he’s stable.”
Behind her, a cascade of smiles and hugs began and ended with Jenna wrapping her arm around Ashley’s waist, steadying her.
Ashley nodded. “Can I see him?”
“He’s in recovery. I’ll send a nurse for you when he’s in his room.”
“He’s a Marine. Do you think the military will want to move him soon?”
“I highly doubt it. After he’s released from here, he’ll have to come back within forty-eight hours for a checkup before I’d be willing to release him for transport to Walter Reed, or some other facility.”
“Right, so we need to prepare.” Her mind started whirling with to-dos, then came to a screeching halt. “One other thing. Did you check his blood sugar levels? He might be diabetic.”
“We did. It’s part of our routine blood work panel. And you’re right. He’s borderline. Good call.”
Right. Limited carbs from now on.
“Thank you, Doctor,” she managed to say in spite of tears stinging and poking, clamoring for release. The empathetic surgeon laid a hand on her forearm and squeezed before he quietly left the room. Her cheeks warmed and she stared at the door unmoving, needing to be by Chase’s side. Right now.
Her caregiver mind kicked into full gear. She had wasted so much time worrying.
“Jenna, I need your help.” The word ‘help’ seemed so foreign, it skidded out of her mouth sideways. When her mom was sick she never asked for help, hated when people interfered. This was different. She drew a deep breath and set her pride aside. “Chase will need some clothes, something to go over his bandages—like track pants. He won’t be able to handle stairs, can someone move the bed into the family room so Chase can have easy access, and…”
Jenna’s hands warmed her cold, numb fingers. “He’s going to be okay.”
“I know.” Ashley said with an uncertainty she wished would just go away and leave her alone.
“Now sit down and eat something. Here’s your sandwich.”
Ashley let the doctor’s information roll through her mind, while her jaw moved up and down, chewing on whatever had been shoved into her hand. She swallowed without tasting. Her toes wiggled in her shoes while her gaze lingered on the clock even more than on the doorway leading to Chase. Thirty-three minutes later, the door finally opened.
“Ashley Bryant?”
“Here, I’m here.” She waved to the nurse before grabbing her purse and book. She jumped to her feet and then turned back to her friends. She should say something. Express her appreciation, but her mind went blank.
“What are you waiting for?” Jenna shoved her out of neutral and toward the nurse. “Go. Harold and Claudia have already agreed to work on your house. Maggie loaned me her phone to text Gwen. She responded immediately with a no problem, got the perfect pants. You ordered, and we delivered.”
Jenna tipped her head toward Jack, who’d barely said a word, sitting quietly in the corner with his arms crossed, watching the sports channel. “Maggie already volunteered to bring back a change of clothing, since we know what a stubborn ass you can be, and Jack’s going to bring his van when Chase is released. See? You’re not the only one who can plan.”
She couldn’t breathe or hold back the tears any longer. Her shoulders started to shake, and the room folded in. Several sets of arms closed around her, but she couldn’t stop the emotions from spilling out. She’d held on so tight for so long. Her heart opened and a tsunami of feelings released to wreak havoc. She leaned into the human embrace.
Jenna gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You’ve got to stop or you’re going to make Jack cry.”
Ashley stared at Jack’s hardened, resolved face and found the idea of him crying so silly, the rush of water receded. She laughed and brushed her fingers under her eyes. “Thank you,” she responded quietly, letting her gratitude ride on the simple words.
She gathered herself, opened the door, and headed down the hall to the room with Chase’s name quickly scribbled on the whiteboard by the door, wondering what revelation life would throw at her next.
Ashley stood in the doorway and watched two nurses buzz around Chase checking IVs and an oxygen tube, and placing heart and oxygen monitors on his arm and finger. An average person might cringe at seeing the tubing and machines and bandages. Odd. He looked better than expected, in spite of his pale skin and medical paraphernalia.
One of the nurses paused long enough to acknowledge her, but continued checking for a pulse and recording Chase’s vital signs. Ashley moved to the far side of the bed to get out of the way.
White gauze strips padded his nose, separating the black and blue swollen eyes and lips. When the nurse lifted the edges of the sheet to check the bandages, red-black inflamed skin contrasted with the white wrapping and made her curious what lay beneath. After the nurses departed, the room was quiet except for the medical monitors.
Left alone with the machines, she felt the stirrings of a déjà vu nightmare of sitting day after day with her mom, trapped, waiting and wondering when the last breath might come. She could hear the constant, insistent beeping of her mother’s heart monitor and the hum of the flow of oxygen.
Bile stung her throat, but she swallowed it back. Chase’s injuries are not the same as a terminal illness. There’d be no lingering month after month. No withering away to nothing. His strong, virile body would heal.
She scooped her fingers under the palm of his hand, then closed them over the top. The touch of skin on skin, and the heat of their connection, brought her comfort.
An index finger moved first, then his eyelid muscles quivered. She leaned into the bed so he could see her and know he wasn’t alone. He looked around the room, clearly confused. The instant he started remembering, his brow furrowed.
She quickly checked the monitors, studying the pulse rate and oxygen levels. She wondered if he needed medication, and squeezed his hand to get his attention. “What’s your pain level?”
His lips parted. “Thirsty.”
“I can help with that.” She took some crushed ice from a cup and carefully slipped one little chip between his swollen lips. When she saw him swallow, she offered another one.
The big, stubborn, confident man she’d come to know appeared shriveled and helpless in the sterile bed. His bruised and battered body lay still, so silent she centered her focus on his chest. She held her breath, praying to see movement. In the past five hours, she’d prayed more than she had in the past three years. Although this time, the request was to save a life rather than to end suffering. When his chest moved, she released her breath on a silent prayer of thanks.
You can do this.
Jenna had been right. Cupid had most likely bonked her on the head. However, Chase’s arrow must have missed him altogether. He’d never said he loved her, and if thi
s hadn’t happened, he’d be on his way back to North Carolina.
Was it fate?
She’d bear the hurt and pain when the time came. She’d done it before. She’d make it through again. Loving him, she decided, would be worth the risk of heartbreak.
His lips pushed and pulled in a tug of war with his facial muscles to respond to his mind’s command. Gradually, his efforts raised his eyelids like a garage door slowly opening and revealing all the emotions trapped inside. “I’m glad you’re here.”
You scared the shit out of me, you jerk! “Where else would I be? You should try to sleep. Let your body heal.”
“You saved me.”
Yeah, I did. “Actually, it was Lucky who found you. Without him, we wouldn’t have—”
He squeezed her fingers and cut off her nervous rambling. “You came. I’m not alone.”
His swollen lips continued to move, but his words got lost when his medicated body was forced into slumber.
Through the night, nurses came and went. Shortly before dawn, Chase’s shoulders and head began to move side to side, and his body twitched. She lifted from her chair and put her wrist to his forehead. The lack of heat underneath her skin was a relief.
No fever. Only dreams.
She rubbed the sleep from her worried face and leaned in, placing her lips next to his ear, and whispered. “I’ve got you. You’re safe. Let go and sleep.”
Chase’s breath eventually eased, and he slid into a light slumber. She straightened his arm. Refusing to let go of his hand, she moved the chair closer to the bedside.
The quiet acceptance of each other’s presence provided comfort. The burden of his survival lifted long enough for her mind to ease.
She drifted into sleep with renewed hope.
Humpty Dumpty was cracked and broken, but would mend.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chase fought off infection and learned to maneuver around on crutches so he could be freed from the uncomfortable bed, white walls, and constant noise.
He awaited further military orders. The doctor expected at least six weeks of physical therapy and another eleven weeks of healing, but warned him each person healed at different rates. Plus, he had a diet change coming. Borderline diabetes meant he wouldn’t be eating any of Jenna’s famous cinnamon rolls anytime soon.
